Horizon Line
by Lt. Basil
Summary: "The day Calypso's life began to change was marked by an explosion and the sound of splintering wood." Calypso's POV in HoH and BoO. K plus to be safe.
1. The First Day of the Rest of My Life

**A/N: I know, I know, this has been done a million times, but heck - I wanted to try. So sue me. This is my interpretation of Calypso POV during HoH and BoO. I hope you enjoy.**

 **Note: The chapters in this will correlate with the chapters in the book - they start and end at approximately the same places, just from a different point of view.**

 **Anyway, I hope you like it.**

The day that Calypso's life began to change was marked by an explosion and the sound of splintering wood.

The impact shook the garden, knocking Calypso to the ground and jostling her satyr fountain so much that the little clay spout was knocked out of alignment. It was jarred sideways, the little spout of water spitting out of the rim and onto the dirt beneath. Shaking her head, the goddess got up on her hands and knees and looked around in shock. She'd heard the impact come from the east, out on the beach. Her stomach roiled at the thought of what had made that splintering sound. There was only one wooden thing out on the beach that was big enough to make _that_ noise…

With a sense of confusion and maybe a trace of dread, Calypso climbed to her feet, brushed off her dress, and headed down the path towards the beach.

The sight she beheld stopped her cold.

Her dining table - her beautifully carved, expensive, _ancient_ dining table that her mother had given her at her coming-of-age - was lying in pieces at the bottom of a smoking crater. The sand around it was blackened, and in some places had smoothed out into glass. Charred sticks lay strewn about the surrounding sand. Her dishes were shattered, some had melted, and all of them were completely ruined.

Calypso gaped, struggling to process all of it.

And then she heard him.

"Sphere!" a male voice situated somewhere to her right hollered. "Come to Papa!"

Calypso's stomach dropped into her toes. _Not another one,_ she thought desperately, even as she turned. _Not now, not so soon…_

Her train of thought came to a screeching halt when she caught sight of him. He was crouched a few feet away from the wreckage, clutching something tightly in both scrawny hands like it was a precious gem and muttering to himself. He was covered from head to toe in soot and grease. His clothes were charred. Smoke and steam were curling off him in wisps. Dark, tangled, ratty hair hung down over his eyes, obscuring his face from view - but the tips of his pointed ears were peeking out from the curly mass in all their glory.

He looked nothing like the others. Even squatting, she could tell that he was short, stringy and not at all heroic looking. His entire body was a mess. He was barefoot, and she could see bony toes burrowing in the sand beneath him, attached to his spindly legs. There was no aura of power or heroism around him - the little imp radiated a type of high-strung, nervous energy that made her want to slap him.

He was also ignoring her.

Anger burned inside her chest. Before she could stop herself, she marched over to the edge of the crater, put her hands on her hips, and shouted: "What are you _doing?_ You blew up my dining table!"

The boy jumped. His head snapped up, revealing a pair of slightly bloodshot dark eyes, tan skin, angular nose, thin lips and a pointed chin. His face wasn't ugly, but she'd hardly call it handsome either - it was too narrow and elfish, and the expression on his face was far too mischievous for her liking.

She was liking him less and less with every second.

He gave her a once-over. A scowl pulled at his lips.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" he snapped irritably. "I just fell out of the sky. I constructed a helicopter in midair, burst into flames halfway down, crash-landed, and barely survived. But by all means - let's talk about your dining table!"

Calypso was struck dumb. She gritted her teeth. Why that insolent… rude… runty… _WHY WAS THIS BRAT EVEN HERE?!_

But he wasn't finished, oh no. Snatching up a melted goblet from the wreckage, he waved it emphatically in front of him. "Who puts a dining table on the beach where innocent demigods can crash into it? Who _does_ that?!"

The girl could feel her face reddening. Her hands clenched into fists at her side. Of all the inconsiderate, rude, downright annoying _runts_ that could've landed here…!

Right when Calypso was sure she was about to explode in her anger, she glared up at the sky. SOMEONE WAS GOING TO PAY FOR THRUSTING THIS BRAT INTO HER CARE!

"REALLY?" she screamed, grinding her foot into the soil. "You want to make my curse even _worse?_ Zeus! Hephaestus! Hermes! Have you no shame?"

The boy suddenly seemed nervous. "Uh…" he started hesitantly. "I doubt they're listening. You know, the whole split personality thing -"

She ignored him. "Show yourself!" she roared. "It's not bad enough I am exiled? It's not bad enough you take away the few _good_ heroes I'm allowed to meet? You think it's funny to send me this -" She trailed off, searching for the right word, "this charbroiled runt of a boy to ruin my tranquility? This is NOT FUNNY! Take him back!"

"Hey Sunshine," the boy grumbled, as impudently as possible. "I'm right here, you know."

She turned on him. _WHAT did he just call me?! Did that little_ twit _just call me_ Sunshine _?!_

Her blood boiled. "Do _not_ call me Sunshine!" she all but screamed. She was positively fuming now. "Get out of hole and come with me _now_ so I can get you off my island!"

The boy rolled his eyes. "Well, since you asked so nicely…" he said sarcastically.

A growl tore in her throat even as she turned to lead him down to the beach. Fury was streaming off her in waves. She wanted to break something. Was her existence really such a _joke_ to the Olympians that they'd throw _this_ in her path?! She must've been the laughingstock of Olympus by now!

Her eyes scanned the ruins of her dining table in a rage. She curled her lip in disgust.

"This was a pristine beach!" she snapped, gesturing to the smoking crater at her back. "Look at it now!"

"Yeah, my bad," he retorted hotly. "I should've crashed on one of the other islands. Oh wait - there weren't any!"

She snarled in disgust. She was getting very tired of this prank. Closing her eyes, she inhaled sharply and tried to calm herself as she stormed her way to the shoreline. _Just call the raft,_ she thought to herself. _He'll be gone soon enough._

She stopped about fifteen feet from the water.

And of course, the demigod promptly crashed into her, nearly toppling her.

"Gah!" she yelped grabbing onto the nearest thing she could in order to keep her balance.

Unfortunately, that nearest thing happened to be him. She had seized his arms by mistake in an effort to keep herself from face planting in the sand. Their faces were only inches apart when she finally righted herself. She found herself staring right into his eyes.

 _They're… actually kind of cute…_

The thought shocked her so much that she shoved it aside instantly, pushing herself promptly out of his grip and glaring at him. He blinked owlishly at her.

Calypso took a deep breath, gathering herself. "Alright. This spot is good. Now tell me you want to leave."

He blinked again. "…What?"

"Do you want to _leave?_ " she snapped, scowling. "Surely you've got somewhere to go!"

They always did after all, whether it be a home, a quest, a responsibility, a woman… they all needed to leave sooner or later. So why not sooner with this one?

"Uh… yeah," he said, hesitantly. "My friends are in trouble. I need to get back to my ship and -"

"Fine." She cut him off abruptly, not wanting to hear about whatever girl it was that he needed to return home to. "Just say, _I want to leave Ogygia_." _Go now so I can be rid of you and live the rest of my lonely existence in peace._

He frowned. "Uh… okay. I want to leave - whatever you said."

She might've slapped him right there for being such an insufferable dolt, but somehow she managed to restrain herself. "Oh-gee-gee-ah," she said venomously, carefully enunciating every syllable so that it would penetrate that thick skull of his.

His eyes narrowed. "I want to leave Oh-gee-gee-ah," he said, rather rudely to be honest. Calypso gritted her teeth.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized that she'd been holding. "Good. In a moment, a magic raft will appear. It will take you wherever you want to go."

The boy gaped at her. Confusion flitted across his features as he looked her up and down. Traces of recognition flashed across his face, but they were gone a second later.

"Who _are_ you?"

 _Nothing much. Just a stupid girl who doesn't know when to give her heart a break. Just the second-best option to any hero she meets. Just a bump in the road. Just a distraction, a seductress, a temptress… or at least, that's what they call me._

She shook her head, biting the words back. "It doesn't matter," she said dismissively. "You'll be gone soon. You're obviously a mistake."

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. The boy's face clouded. Resignation and hurt seeped into his expression, souring it. Calypso suspected that this wasn't the first time he had been called that.

She turned away, struggling to ignore the guilt bubbling up in her stomach. Her eyes scanned the shoreline, eagerly searching for the vessel which had carried so many heroes away from her.

"Any moment now…"

But no raft appeared.

"Maybe it got stuck in traffic," the boy said sardonically.

She wanted to punch him. She wanted to march right up to Olympus, grab Zeus by the collar and shake him until he agreed to take this little brat away from her.

Most of all, she wanted that stupid raft to show its face! _Where the Tartarus is it? It should be here by now!_

"This is wrong…" she muttered. Glaring up at the sky above her, she screamed; "This is completely wrong!"

Annoying as ever, the boy once again started to babble out nonsense, "So… plan B? You got a phone, or -"

"Agh!" Calypso turned and stormed up the beach. The moment she reached the footpath, she broke into a run. Anything to get as far away from him as possible.

As she ran, her eyes started to water. She scrubbed at them furiously.

 _The gods must think I'm the biggest fool on this earth,_ she thought miserably. _Curse them. Curse all of them!_

She had already reached her garden when she finally snapped. Falling to her knees in the dirt, Calypso threw her head back and screamed.

 **So… there's chapter 1. I'm not sure what to make of it… but eh. Whatever. Please review if you can spare a second. I need feedback!**


	2. Trapped

**A/N: Hiya! I'm back! Thanks so much to those of you who read and faced and followed and reviewed last chapter! You are a big help to the development of this story and potential future stories. Your support means a lot.**

 **Anyway, hope you like chapter 2!**

Calypso had hoped that the demigod would leave her alone after she ran off - but of course, the little brat decided to follow her.

She was down on her knees in her vegetable garden, stabbing at the weeds with her trowel and muttering curses under her breath even as tears streamed down her face, when she heard him come in with a _"Holy Hephaestus"_ of surprise as he took in her home.

She gritted her teeth in annoyance. Of _course_ he'd followed her. They always did. Odysseus, Drake, even Percy had followed her around the island for quite a good portion of their stays - it was only natural this one would do so as well. Her efforts against the weeds grew even fiercer; she practically tore the dirt beneath her apart in her anger as she literally hacked at it. Flecks of soil were now coating her arms, face and dress, but she didn't really care. She was far more focused on trying to vent her anger about this whole stupid situation on the weeds.

Vaguely, she was aware of the boy approaching her from the side. He stared down at her for several minutes, taking in her disheveled appearance and the vigor in which she was attacking the plants. There was no admiration in his gaze, like there had been in the others' - only mild curiosity and maybe a touch of irritation. Calypso wished that he'd stop staring at her like that. She felt like a laboratory specimen (that was the modern term, right?), sitting there as some kook in a white coat looked at her and prodded her with pointy things. This boy was looking at her in a similar manner.

"I think you've punished the dirt enough," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. She paused her digging to look up and glower at him.

"Just go away," she said bitterly.

He shuffled his feet, seemingly uncomfortable. "You're crying," he said softly, looking her up and down. Great. Now he was pitying her.

"None of your business," Calypso muttered, annoyed. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? "It's a big island. Just… find your own place. Leave me alone." She gestured in a random direction. "Go that way maybe."

He didn't move. "So, no magic raft. No other way off this island?"

She could feel her temper rising again. "Apparently not!" she snapped.

"What am supposed to do then?" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sit in the sand dunes until I die?"

That option actually sounded pretty good to her. "That would be fine…"

There was just one problem with it, however.

She glared up at the sky and cursed again. "Except I suppose he _can't_ die here, can he? Zeus! This is not funny!"

The demigod's eyes widened marginally.

"Hold up." He put up his hands. "I'm going to need some more information here."

A snarl escaped her lips. What did he think she was, an oracle?! She didn't have time for his stupid questions!

"You don't want me in your face, that's cool," he continued. "I don't want to be here either." ( _Well that's something, at least,_ she thought sourly). "But I'm not going to go die in a corner. I have to get off this island. There's _got_ to be a way. Every problem has a fix."

She laughed bitterly. He was so naive, she almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

"You haven't lived very long, if you still believe that," she stated flatly. No, he hadn't lived very long at all. He was what, fifteen? Sixteen? He was practically a child by _mortal_ standards, let alone compared to the gods. Compared to her.

He gave her a long look, as if he were reassessing her. She let him. She might as well - she had a feeling that at this point, making him go away wasn't going to be possible.

"You said something about a curse," he said, carefully.

She sighed, placing her trowel on the ground. Her fingers had started losing their circulation from clutching it so hard - they were as stiff as ten useless pieces of wood. She flexed them, trying to return some of the feeling back into the stubborn appendages.

"Yes," she told him tiredly. "I cannot leave Ogygia. My father, Atlas, fought against the gods, and I supported him."

The boy's eyes bugged. "Atlas." He swallowed nervously. "As in the _Titan_ Atlas?"

Another stab of annoyance shot through her. "Yes, you impossible little…" she trailed off. As annoying as he was, _that_ insult was a little too strong, even for him. Instead, she sighed again and continued explaining. "I was imprisoned here, where I could cause the Olympians no trouble. About a year ago, after the Second Titan War, the gods vowed to forgive their enemies and offer amnesty. Supposedly Percy made them promise - "

"Percy," the boy cut in. Recognition sparked in his eyes. "Percy Jackson?"

Calypso tried to hold her emotion in. She'd shown enough weakness in front of this boy as it was. But she couldn't help it. A tear slipped down her cheek as she thought of him - his tousled black hair, his beautiful sea-green eyes, the sweet half-smile that he'd give her when he thought she wasn't looking…

She watched her companion's expression change as the truth dawned on him. His face softened.

"Percy came here." It wasn't a question.

She clenched her fingers, digging them into the soil. She took a deep breath. Then another. After the third, she was ready to speak.

"I-I thought's I would be released," she confessed. She cringed at how her voice shook. "I dared to hope… but I am still here."

The boy bit his lip, rocking back on his heels a little bit as he thought. She watched him as he slowly reached into his tool belt and took out some little pieces of metal and began fiddling with them. It would be a lie if she said that she wasn't a _little_ bit fascinated by the way his hands were moving. He moved so fast, his hands were a blur of motion as he twisted the little bits around in his fingers. And he did it all without even looking down at his work - it was all automatic, like he wasn't even consciously aware that he was doing it.

Then his hands stilled. His eyes widened. The pieces of metal fell from his hands.

"You're that lady. The one who was named after Caribbean music."

And just like that, the anger was back again. She could feel her cheeks heating with her fury. Her hands clenched into fists.

"Caribbean music," she said flatly. Of all the things that could've made him realize who she was, his memory was triggered by a silly little brand of mortal music?! What was this, some kind of joke?!

"Yeah," he continued, completely oblivious. "Reggae? Merengue? Hang on, I'll get it."

She was just about ready to rip his tongue out of his head if he dared to continue. Then he snapped his fingers.

"Calypso!" He sounded ridiculously proud of himself, like it was a real accomplishment to remember who she was, even though as a demigod he _had_ to have heard plenty of stories about her (especially considering that the dolt was personally acquainted with Percy Jackson).

His face clouded in confusion. "But Percy said you were awesome. He said you were all sweet and helpful, not, um…"

She stood abruptly, her hands curling into claws. She glared at him, daring him to finish that sentence. "Yes?"

The boy blanched. "Uh, nothing."

Calypso was furious. "Would you be _sweet_ if the gods forgot their promise to let you go?" she snarled. "Would you be sweet if they _laughed_ at you by sending another hero, but a hero who looked like - like _you?_ "

"Is that a trick question?" he squeaked.

" _Di immortales!_ " She'd had enough of this. She turned and stormed off towards her cave.

"Hey!" The demigod scrambled after her.

Calypso had already started to clean the dirt off of her arms when he finally caught up to her. She turned and glared at him, wishing for the hundredth time that he would just _go away_ and let her be miserable in peace.

He cleared his throat, letting her know that she should brace herself for a big speech.

"So… I get why you're angry. You probably never want to see another demigod again. I guess that didn't sit right when, us, Percy left you -"

What did he know? Had _he_ ever been trapped on an island and forced to fall in love with every person who was unlucky enough to wash up there? Had _he_ been abandoned over and over again in favor of some other faceless lowlife that had somehow managed to capture the heart of the person he loved?

"He was only the latest!" she snapped, throwing another glare in the demigod's direction. "Before him, it was that pirate Drake. And before him, Odysseus." _Not to mention Perseus and Heracles and Chris and Marco and Dominic…_

"They were all the same!" she added. "The gods send me the greatest heroes, the ones I cannot help, but…"

"You fall in love with them," the boy finished. "And then they leave you."

So he _did_ remember her curse. Well, that was something, at least.

Her bottom lip began to quiver. "That is my curse," she said miserably. She didn't know why she was bearing her soul to this insufferable moron, but it still felt good to talk about it to someone, even if that someone _was_ him. "I had hoped to be free of it by now, but here I am, still stuck on Ogygia after three thousand years."

"Three thousand?" the boy asked incredulously. He gaped at her. "Uh, you look good for three thousand."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. Only a mortal would focus on that fact over all of the other information she'd just given him. Her lip curled.

"And now… the worst insult of all," she added venomously. "The gods mock me by sending _you_."

The moment she said it, Calypso realized that she'd gone too far. First, the boy's face clouded with hurt - but that hurt was quickly replaced by anger. His eyes flashed dangerously. He clenched his hands into fists, his lips pressing together in a thin line. He regarded her as if she was some unpleasant gunk that he had very nearly stepped in.

Guilt plunged into her gut once again.

"Fine," he snapped, fuming. "I'll leave you alone. I'll build something myself and get off this stupid island without your help."

She shook her head slowly. Once again, she found herself feeling sorry for him. He just didn't get it.

"You don't understand, do you?" she asked. "The gods are laughing at both of us. If the raft will not appear, that means they've closed Ogygia. You're stuck here the same as me. You can never leave."


	3. Coexistence

**AN: I'm so sorry I'm so late! Almost six months, it's been so long, I've had writer's block, I've gotten distracted, I've been preoccupied with other things (like camp and canning peaches and making applesauce with my mom and spending time with my sister who I only get to see during the summer 'cause she lives on the other side of the state and is really busy with college stuff and also finishing up my senior year of high school trying to keep my GPA above a 3.0 and taking SATs and AP tests and doing yard work for my dad and a lot of other things), and as pathetic of a life as I have, I do have one (sort of) outside of fanfiction. I am a quiz master for my area's bible quiz program. I am trying to get a job. I am working towards getting my driver's license. I attend Youth Group. I help my parents with their little around-the-house projects. I also don't own a copy of HoH or BoO so I had to head back to the library to get my hands on one so that I could actually continue.**

 **So I apologize for taking so long. I apologize for having writer's block. I apologize for getting distracted. I apologize for forgetting**

 **I don't apologize for having a life, however. And I never will.**

 **So anyway, I hope you enjoy chapter 3 of** _ **Horizon Line.**_

Calypso would give him one thing - this demigod didn't know when to give up.

He was almost never idle, spending his days wandering the island searching for materials to help him in his escape. In the span of a few hours he had stitched together a bed made out of random bits of discarded cloth she had left lying around and had (she gritted her teeth at the thought but sullenly admitted that he was nothing if not resourceful) built a bonfire out of the remains of her dining table to keep warm. At one point she'd seen him constructing a miniature shelter out of nothing but sticks and bits of scrap cloth. Later he'd constructed for himself what looked like a bench and a miniature table out of driftwood and dead branches, as well as some odd metal contraption with a needle that spun in circles and seemed pretty much useless (but was still oddly impressive despite this). He polished and tinkered with that ridiculous sphere, sometimes setting his hands on fire when he let his frustration get the better of him ( _A fire user?_ she thought. _How unusual_ ). She'd spotted him on numerous occasions tossing random pieces of metal into the sea spray in an attempt to contact the outside world - a fruitless effort, considering that a) the island was completely cut off from the outside world rendering any attempt at communication moot and b) the goddess Iris would never be interested in anything that wasn't a golden drachma or denaari or other type of celestial currency anyway - but his persistence, Calypso admitted begrudgingly, was admirable, if a tad bit pathetic.

She watched him from the shadows, never daring to show her face lest he get the wrong impression and think she was _interested_ in him (she wasn't. He was obnoxious and rude and scrawny and disruptive, no matter how fascinating it was to watch him pull out little bits of metal from his tool belt and rapidly construct them into little trinkets that he'd send flying into the air or scuttling across the sand like a shiny, undersized crab), but she couldn't help but keep an eye on him. Maybe it was the instincts built up from three thousand years of taking care of other heroes that made her do it. Or maybe it was because she was maybe-sort-of-kind-of-just-a-tiny-itty-bitty-bit interested in observing him work. As annoying and runty and sarcastic as he was… he certainly knew how to use his hands.

With how good he was at making things, there was no way he wasn't a son of Hephaestus. Which of course also explained why he was so dull to look at and seemed to have no social skills but certainly did _not_ explain his tiny statue or his irritating sense of humor.

Despite those few minor differences however, the boy did, in some ways, remind her very much of her old friend.

That didn't mean that Calypso wanted to be around him, however. The first time he visited her, she had to fight back the urge to brain him with one of her trowels when he started interrogating her on how long he had been there. Apparently a simple "time is difficult here" wasn't good enough for him if the way that he had glared at her and started grumbling under his breath as he turned and stomped away in a rage. It would have been so easy to throw the tiny shovel at the back of his head and knock him unconscious for a few days so she could be rid of his idiocy - lucky for him, however, she refrained.

He had no idea how lucky he was that she was able to maintain her self-control.

XXX

The longer she observed him wandering about, the more she began to realize something - _he wasn't eating._ She'd seen him scoop up water from the creek and keep himself hydrated, she'd seen him sleep and exercise and even work a bit on trying to build things to help him get off her island with the scarce resources available to him, but never once had she seen him eat, even though there was plenty of fruit growing on the trees all around the island and fish in the water and there were plenty of small root vegetables growing deeper in the woods. He didn't touch any of it.

Calypso tried to ignore it. She tried to tell herself that it didn't matter, that if he was going to go and starve himself it wasn't any of _her_ business, but damn her soft heart, she couldn't sit back and feast on her fresh bread and beef stew while he went to sleep hungry every night. She resisted for two days. Then on the third, she gave up. Filling a basket with a loaf of bread, some stew and a goblet of apple cider, she set off towards his campsite. Having noticed that his smoldered clothing left quite an unpleasant smell that followed him everywhere he went, she had also woven a new set of clothes for him as well.

Originally, she'd meant to drop it off a few yards away from his camp, but halfway through her garden she got cold feet. Why should she go the entire way for such an insufferable little dolt like him? She'd done the hard work, let him do the rest! So she left the basket at the edge of the garden before stomping back to her cave.

A few hours later, when she went back to check, the basket was gone.

XXX

The second time he came to visit her was to thank her for the food. Calypso was in the middle of washing dishes and was just about to hang a freshly cleaned soup pot up on its hook to dry when he poked his head in.

"Hey, I just wanted to say thanks -"

Calypso screamed at the top of her lungs, reflexively spinning on her heel and hurling the dripping pot straight at the boy's head. With a startled yelp, he dove sideways, narrowly avoiding getting brained by the metal cookware. "Hey!"

"GET OUT!" Calypso shrieked, picking up another pot and chucking it at him. This one nearly nicked his ear - he only just dodged in time.

"Okay, okay, I'm going!" he yelped, ducking out of sight. "Geez…"

And so he stormed away muttering things like "crazy goddess" and "damn psycho" as he went.

Calypso sank back against the cave wall, exhausted and embarrassed. That… was probably a bit of an overreaction on her part. But to be fair, he had startled her. She wasn't particularly fond of being startled. And it wasn't like she wanted to be around him anyway. It was a good thing she'd driven him away.

(So why did it hurt, just a little bit, when he didn't come by to visit again?)

XXX

The next morning, she walked out into her garden and noticed that something was off. It took her a few moments to realize what it was.

Then it hit her.

That annoying ticking sound that her satyr fountain had started making when the boy's explosion had shaken up her island? It was gone now. Bewildered, Calypso moved over to take a closer look at it.

The satyr was facing the same way it had always faced, silently spurting a steady stream of water back into its bowl. No water spilled over the rim. It was in perfect working order.

How…?

Of course. The demigod had fixed it for her. Calypso had seen how good he was with his hands - that was the only reasonable explanation. But why would he do it?

Looking around, the goddess noticed with some surprise that the fountain wasn't the only thing he had fixed. The rod above the entrance to her cave had been leveled out, so that the curtain was no longer dragging the ground. A short distance away, her gardening tools were sitting in a neat pile, the blades of her shears freshly sharpened, the hinges of her pruners oiled and gleaming in the morning sunlight, and her trowels smooth and polished, undented and unbent. They were all in such good condition, if she hadn't known better she might have thought they were brand new.

Clearly he had repaired everything. That much was obvious. But _why_? He despised her - he'd made _that_ very clear within the first hour that she'd known him. He wanted nothing to do with her. And yet here he was, fixing her fountain and repairing her tools for her. It didn't make any sense. _He_ didn't make any sense. Who the Tartarus _was_ this boy?

Shaking her head in bewilderment, Calypso turned back toward the fountain. Waving her hand over the still water, she leaned down and whispered, "Show me the boy."

The reflection of the water shimmered and morphed into a very familiar shape. Setting her shoulders, Calypso leaned back and watched.

XXX

His name was Leo Valdez, she learned. He was sixteen, a son of Hephaestus (and a fire-starter, no less), and an expert mechanic and inventor. He was the youngest member of a group of seven demigods headed off to try and prevent Gaea (Calypso's own grandmother) from rising up and destroying the known world. He was builder and captain of their vessel, the _Argo II._ He had what mortals referred to as Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, meaning that he had difficulty focusing on anything for very long and he had a tendency to have an excess of energy that make him incredibly jumpy and skittish and unable to stay still for very long (wow, what a shocker).

His two best friends were named Jason Grace and Piper McLean - they were a couple, frequently leaving him feeling like a third wheel whenever he was around them, despite his attempts to conceal it. Apparently he felt like that a lot with all of the other members of the Seven as well. Calypso couldn't help but empathize. She knew what it was like to feel like she was only second-best to people she cared about. Their circumstances certainly weren't identical, as Leo was not in love with either Piper _or_ Jason, but the general idea was the same. And she knew how it felt all too well.

Perhaps it was extremely nosey of her to pry into Leo's past, but Calypso couldn't stand her own curiosity anymore. She _had_ to figure this boy out. And if prying into his personal life was what it took to do that, so be it.

Even just skimming the surface of his past, Calypso could tell that Leo had had a hard life. She saw the light leave him after his mother's death, watched him get weighed down by the pain as he struggled through one group home and then the next, and felt his heart shatter every time he was rejected and pushed aside by someone who was supposed to care about him. Her heart squeezed with sympathy as she saw him grow, changing from a bouncy, happy little boy to a burdened young man with personal walls so thick and high it would take a thousand yards of a metaphorical grappling hook just to scale them.

Thinking back to the sarcastic little imp that had crash-landed on her island several days ago, the one who had been so rude and sarcastic and had insulted her, she wondered just how much of it was actually genuine and how much was just an act put in place to protect himself.

Maybe they weren't as different as Calypso had first thought. Because she knew a thing or two about acting. She could relate.

Sighing, Calypso waved her hand again and the images disappeared. Dropping to her knees in the dirt, the young goddess hugged her knees to her chest and buried her face in them.

She had a lot to think about.

 **So I know I said that I'd be making every chapter in this coincide with a chapter in the books, but this one just kept dragging on and on and on and I decided it's best to split it in two. So… yeah. Might have to wait a little bit for part 2 to come out; I'll try to be quick but no promises.**


End file.
